


A Real Up-and-Comer

by amoosebouche



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Awkward Conversations, Dildos, Friends to Lovers, Implied Switching, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roommates, Sex Toys, Smut, abrupt ending because endings are hard?, amateur porn, complete inability to practice moderation in the face of new sex toys, sore muscles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoosebouche/pseuds/amoosebouche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's still sore from his adventures the previous day and his roommate is at home, but the siren call of that unopened package on his bed is too tempting to ignore</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Real Up-and-Comer

**Author's Note:**

> I WOULD LIKE TO THANK "TEAM LUBE" FOR THIS HOT MESS. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

It’s not until he has to walk _up_ the three flights of stairs that Dean really, _really_ starts to regret his actions from yesterday. It’s always the same thought process: _maybe I shouldn’t fuck myself silly on that giant dildo. My legs will be so sore. But look at it… mmm. Yeah, totally gonna do it._ Every time. Always followed by the current situation: _my goddamn legs are so fucking sore._

Muscles protesting from the climb upstairs, he pushes open the apartment door. Absently, he drops the mail on the small table in the entry and dumps his bag and jacket on the dinner table, only to be greeted by a huffy voice coming from the couch.

“Some of us use that table for things other than coat storage.”

“Ha, ha. You’re a riot. I’m too sore to travel the five extra feet to the closet.”

“Oh, really? Do tell,” his roommate replies with a smirk, finally looking up from his laptop. 

Dean feels a blush rush over his face and a thrill run down his spine as he realizes the implications of that statement. Poorly worded unintentional innuendoes and the subsequent mortification are something that occur altogether too often around Cas.

“Uh. You know, too many squats?” _Oh, like that’s any better, you idiot_.

Fortunately, Cas lets that one pass. He turns his attention back to his work with only one small chuckle. “You have a package. I put it on your bed.”

“Oh. Thanks, man.” Suddenly, he recalls just which package he’s expecting. “ _Oh._ Yeah, thanks!” he repeats, excitedly. “I was waiting for that to get here!”

His roommate just nods absently, already fully focused on whatever is on the computer screen while Dean moves quickly down the hallway.

When he gets to his room, the plain cardboard box is sitting there innocently, square in the center of his bed. Anticipation shoots through him, his cock twitching in interest. Oh, if only Cas had any clue what was in that box... He shuts the door softly, then grabs the scissors from his desk, making quick work of the packing tape. Dean then reverently lifts out the contents: his beautiful new toy. He really shouldn’t be _this_ tempted to try it out immediately, given how overboard he’d gone yesterday while Cas was out. Nevertheless, he practically tears the product packaging open in his haste to get it in his hands. The satin pouch it’s in is a nice touch, but he tosses that aside, too, his pulse ratcheting up as he hefts the large dildo. It’s heavy and firm, but not completely stiff, with a surprisingly soft and responsive texture to it. And, again, it’s _large_. He draws his fingers along its length in admiration. 

He could just test it out a little bit, right? Just to make sure the texture and the size hit the spot. Or something. And just because it’s huge and looks amazing doesn’t mean he has to shove the _whole thing_ in there, after all. And he certainly doesn’t have to do it in his favorite position, either; he _could_ just lie back on the bed, relax, and save his quads and glutes from further abuse. But then he thinks about how awesome it’ll feel to slide up and down on this cock, fucking himself, riding it hard until he comes all over and — yeah, suddenly he’s fully hard, and really fucking glad he has an ensuite bathroom.

He quickly washes the dildo — it’d be a shame to cover up this amazing texture with a condom, after all — and pulls out the chair that really only gets used for this one, albeit very important, purpose. The bottle of lube is right where he left it yesterday, sitting on the desk. Heart thudding and cock twitching in anticipation, he wakes up his computer, starts Spotify, and then adjusts the camera a little bit. It’s just nervous fussing, because he always sets the chair in the same spot, so the camera is always aimed correctly. Once he’s satisfied with that, he shucks his clothing and starts prepping himself. 

Finally, after what feels like forever, he’s ready to start recording.

“Alright, so I know I was a little rough with myself last night with my good friend the ‘Caped Cock’, and I probably shouldn’t be jumpin’ right back in there so quickly, but I got my new toy today and this can’t wait,” he says as he holds it up so that it takes up the majority of the screen. “Look at this beauty. I can’t even describe how great it even feels just holding it in my hands. Anyway, uh, I’m just gonna test it out a little bit today.” Funny how he can say all this to faceless strangers without even blinking, but a fairly normal conversation with his roommate has his face flaming. Putting that thought aside, he squeezes out a few dollops of lube into his palm, rubbing it up and down the shaft reverently. 

“Mm, can’t wait to get this inside me!” he murmurs as he strokes one lubed hand over his now painfully hard cock, holding the slicked-up dildo in the other. He then quickly backs away from the screen until he’s standing over the chair and places the flat base of the dildo on the surface. Dean eases himself down, impaling himself slowly on the textured cock, groaning appreciatively as inch by inch it disappears into his greedy, stretched hole.

“Jesus fucking Mary and Joseph,” he breathes out once it’s all the way in. So much for moderation. But this thing is _fucking amazing_. He drops one hand down to the chair, holding the base in place as he rises up, feeling the slippery cock slide out of him as he does so. As he sits back down, he has to grab the base of his dick with his other hand to keep himself grounded as the dildo brushes up against his prostate, the sparks shooting through him prompting pathetic little moans to escape his lips. He stills for just a moment, adjusting to the feeling, but then need rushes through him, propelling him into motion.

“Oh, fuck. Ohh, jesus. Fuck!” Dean moans as he moves, sliding back off the cock, faster this time, and then even faster as he quickly gets into a rhythm, riding the dildo hard, fucking himself on it mercilessly. The sound of his ass cheeks slapping against the hard wood of the chair sends a thrill through him all the way down to his toes. Sweat prickles on his skin, and he can smell the sharp, heady tang of his arousal. As the pleasure quickly mounts, he realizes this isn’t going to take long at all, so he finally allows himself to tug on his cock as the sounds escaping him get more and more desperate. He fleetingly hopes that he’s got the music on loud enough to cover his moans, but then that bolt of electricity zings through him, a loud, drawn-out “ _fuuuuck_ ” rips out of him, and he’s coming, spurting so hard that he splatters onto his desk, the monitor, even the fucking camera… 

He pulls the dildo out, tossing it carelessly onto the desk, then collapses on the chair. His legs are shaking like jelly, his empty hole spasming around nothing, but _dear god_ , was that amazing. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he’s able to move enough to stop the recording. Dean then wobbles over to the bed and throws himself down on it, unable to do much else other than lay there, twitching spasmodically, as he comes down.

His thoughts float pleasantly; he’s unable to really pin down anything specific until his roommate’s smirking face makes itself known. In his haze, he lets himself daydream about Cas, the pleasant thoughts of post-coital cuddling with his friend and roommate bringing a smile to his face.

 

It’s only a few minutes later that he comes back to the present, pulling a sticky hand off of his spent junk. The realization that he didn’t clean up after himself immediately dampens whatever happy dream he’d just had that he can’t even remember now. Groaning, leg muscles protesting mightily — always, _always_ the same thing: _oh just a little fuck, it’ll be fine_ followed, post-masturbation, by _ow, fuck, my FUCKING legs_ — he wobbles his way to the bathroom to get a washcloth. Maybe he should do pre-masturbation stretching or something, because this is getting ridiculous. 

He quickly edits the video with the sound muted, cutting out all the unnecessary bits at the beginning and end, making _extra_ sure his face doesn’t get in the frame accidentally, then uploads it. He then spends the next few minutes cleaning up his toy and his work area, puts the chair away, and actually remembers to close the cap on the lube this time. After that, he’s finally ready to pull on some sweats to venture out to get a quick snack. Cas is still parked out on the couch, apparently oblivious to Dean’s activities, so engrossed in his work that he actually startles when Dean walks into the kitchen. He’s got headphones on, though, so Dean just waves a hand at him in greeting before disappearing back into his room to take a well-deserved nap.

 

Dean has no idea how long he was out, but when an insistent hand finally shakes him awake, it’s dark outside. He’d left the bedside lamp on, and as Cas looms over him, he can clearly see the concerned look on his roommate’s otherwise handsome face. Dean’s skin burns where Cas’s hand rests on his shoulder.

“Dean, your phone has been going off for the past ten minutes.” Cas straightens up and tosses the offending item next to him on the bed.

“Oh, shit… thanks, Cas. Guess I was pretty wiped out.”

“Let me guess, too many squats?” That same self-satisfied little smirk graces his roommates features, before his gaze suddenly wanders over toward the computer desk, and Dean bolts up, suddenly certain that — yup, he left the computer awake, open to the video editing software. Front and center on the screen is an image of him sitting on a chair, impaled on a dildo. Heat rushes through him, the flush spreading from his face to his bare chest, as the realization hits. He flops back down, hands over his face, his brain churning. Maybe Cas will just think it’s random porn, because the shot doesn’t have his face in it. But then there’s the very obvious background of his bedroom... With a sinking feeling in his gut, he slowly turns toward his roommate. Cas’s eyes are narrowed thoughtfully, and he’s blushing, too. Dean tries to think of an excuse, any excuse, but before he can even force out a word, Cas is speaking in a rush.

“That, uh. That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Huh?”

“You — I know that’s your video, Dean. Did you even watch it before you uploaded it?” Cas laughs, a little uncertainly. “You, um. You called out my name. At the end. And it’s clearly your voice, anyway, at the beginning.” He looks embarrassed, but it’s nothing compared to how Dean feels right now. What he wouldn’t give for the floor to open up and swallow him, bed and all.

“I did _what_ , now??” Then the other realization hits him. “And what do you mean you watched it? How long were you in here?”

“On _my_ computer, you idiot,” Cas laughs nervously. “I recognized where your package was from because I’ve ordered from there before, and when you got home, I had the sudden thought that you’d, um, probably test it out right away and, and that thought was rather distracting to me and after a while I couldn’t concentrate on my work at all. So I may have eventually gone to my favorite site and yours was the most recent upload and it looked interesting?” The words tumble out of him so quickly Dean has trouble following, until suddenly it all clicks into place.

“Were you jerking off on the _living room couch_ , Cas?? Oh my god. You _were_ — when I was in the kitchen?”

“I— maybe?” Cas shrugs, a sheepish expression on his face. He suddenly looks at the floor, mumbling something Dean can’t hear clearly.

“What?”

“I said, if that’s how you always go at it, no wonder you’re sore.”

Dean looks at his bedspread, blushing again. Or maybe he never stopped blushing, but just gets redder and redder as this weird conversation progresses. His instinct is to hide, pretend none of this ever happened, but it occurs to him that there must be a reason that Cas initiated this awkward exchange; he could have just tossed the phone at him and left the room. Instead, he brought up the video. So that means, maybe — he takes a deep breath and forces himself to look at Cas before saying probably the most difficult thing he’s said in a long time.

“So I, uh, I really said your name?” Cas nods, eyes firmly on the floor. “Guess my subconscious knows what I really want better than I do,” he manages to get out, heart pounding. At that admission, Cas looks up, meeting Dean’s eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Is that so?” The knowing smirk and confidence are back. Dean realizes that he really likes this side of Cas, as his insides go all gooey. Or they would, if he had _any_ energy to spare at all. Dean scoots to one side of the bed, patting the space next to him invitingly. Cas barely hesitates before scrambling onto the bed next to him, sitting cross-legged, facing Dean. Cas reaches out a hand to Dean’s arm, gauging his reaction, then trails it softly along his skin. Goosebumps spring up in his wake.

“So, uh, I’m too tired to even move right now, but maybe when I recover I could, uh, take _you_ for a test drive?”

Cas smiles at that, a giant grin spreading over his face. “I would like that, Dean. But if I must be honest, I’m a little more interested in having you inside _me_. At least, at first? If you’re okay with that?” A thrill spills down Dean’s spine at the implications of that, and he smiles widely in return.

“Yeah, Cas, I think I’m ok with that, too.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING I'M SO SORRY


End file.
